


Between a Rock and Hard Place

by shuns



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Comment Sections have the best ideas, Droids telling yo momma jokes, Economic Farce...its a thing, F/F, F/M, Free to Fall/ Free-For-All, Haha ... hard, Human to Crystal Sex is hard, I swear, It's uselessenglishmajor's fault, MalRock forever, Malsla Never, accidental glove kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuns/pseuds/shuns
Summary: MalRock is Real.  Inspired by the Free to Fall/Free-for-all.  An economic farce about Malaak, a Knight of Ren, Krystal, a sentient Rock and lead singer of Gneiss Grrls (the hottest band in the Western Reaches of the galaxy), the First Order’s Finance Unit, making plans, breaking plans, accounting droids fighting over cash statements, The Runaways’ songs rewritten for space, genital spelunking gear, F-F-M love triangles, explicit sex, forcegasms, puns, banter, self-recrimination, and of course, explosions.





	Between a Rock and Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeartSandwich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartSandwich/gifts), [uselessenglishmajor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uselessenglishmajor/gifts).



Malaak was in hell.

His father’s favorite curse for when he was particularly frustrated was “Seven Hells.” As he looked around the meeting room, Malaak believed one of those hells was listening to economists and accountants talk about revenue forecasting.

They talked in paragraphs. He thought they were the saying same thing just using different large words, but he could not be sure because his head hurt. But the worst was when they started using their hands, not in the way he did to end a life or touch a woman. No, they were always comparing ‘on this hand we could do this thing that made no sense’ but then ‘on the other hand we could do this other thing that was pointless’ and it took so many words to say it. He would like to cut off their hands. All of them. Then they could no longer make comparisons and that would be good.

Oh, Maker they were talking about drivers of variance again. He fingered his lightsaber. He knew that in less than 38 seconds he could kill everyone in the room. First, he would stab the young economist on his left, probably through his side, pulling the saber forward to disembowel him. Then he would chop off the head of the middle-aged accountant to his right. He would jump onto the table and with one sweep kill the three people on the other side of the table. He did not know what they did, but since they were here in hell they must be demons and should be destroyed. 

At this point in the slaughter, they might catch on to him, so he would deflect blaster bolts into Lieutenant Nyard Keynes; she was a pretty blond, but none of them could be left alive. Then he would spin, lunge, and end Captain Jahnsen Nash on the right. The only one left would be General Janeek Yellen of the Financial Planning and Analysis Unit, Chief Economist of the First Order. Her ship was a dreadnaught, _The Reaper_ . He would save her for last. He would ask her if on one hand she would prefer to die by lightsaber or on the other hand be pushed out an airlock. He snorted at his cleverness and then realized that General Yellen was talking to him.

“…Knight Commander, can you answer the question?”

Oh fuck, what was the question? He had drifted again.

“I agree?” That usually worked.

“You agree that I am being unreasonable by asking for full payment in hard currency?”

“Um, no?”

“Well which is it Knight Commander, yes or no?”

“I don’t know. Who cares?” He shrugged dismissively. “Can we stop talking now? Worry about details later.”

General Yellen paused and pursed her lips. “Knight Commander, the First Order is a vast organization filled with people who care about a great many things – IN DETAIL.”

Malaak glowered at her. He was a veteran of many battles. A Force Wielder. A Knight of Ren. But somehow, even though she was smaller than him, when she stared him down over her glasses with her steely blue eyes he lost his words.

She closed her eyes, removed her glasses, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Knight Commander, these planning sessions are for all of us to ensure things go smoothly.”

Malaak twisted in his seat. As Commander of the Western Reaches, his star destroyer _The Pulverizer_ was the law, but once a year _The Reaper_ visited his territory: officially, to collect taxes, tolls, fees, and royalties, and unofficially, to collect extortions, kickbacks, bribes, and hush money. _The Reaper_ was a dreadnaught; he did not know why it needed an escort. And it was not like he was jealous of General Yellen’s larger, more powerful ship. Much.

But this was the last run and then she was moving on to the next sector. Just one more collection and she would be gone, taking her tedious, long meetings with her. But she had a point; the final collection was the largest and most profitable. They couldn't mess up.

Festival was known in the Western Reaches as a planet for good times. Once a religious site, it had become the outpost for music, partying, and all the associated excesses. He was looking forward to visiting it.

Fuck, the General was talking again.

“… repeat the plan one more time.”

He sighed. “I dock at the Entry Point. I meet the Emperzario who will take me to the Bank.”

“And then…”

“The droids… the accounting droids will tally the tax based off the receipts. I am not to interrupt them. Or destroy them. Even if I feel like it is justified…for any reason.” It had not been his fault. The droid had mocked him. Debits and credits did sound the same; it had deserved to be crushed for its lack of respect.

“And then…”

He thought.

She sighed and said, “You get the payment in cash…”

“Oh right, I get the payment in cash and leave. I signal green and return to _The Reaper_ with the payment.”

“Unless…”

“Unless there is a … discrepancy. Then I signal red. I will stay with the team the entire time.” 

She nodded, “It’s as good as it’s going to get. Stick to the plan. Let’s see if we can get through this without an incident.” 

____________________________________

He did not follow the plan.

Their team was cleared to go directly to surface and land the shuttle with a small contingent of troopers, accounting droid MM-407, and Lead Expedition Accountant Captain Nash. The Emperzario was waiting and escorted them to a floating platform that would take them from the Entry Point to the Bank.

Stepping off the shuttle, Malaak took in the swirling sky. An ever-changing whorl of colors, it was hard to look at it too long without his head hurting. Everything felt more raw and edgy here. The Force was very strong in this place. It crouched and stalked like a sleek beast and fed on loud music, wild nights, and bad choices.

Then he saw her. 

She was getting off a transport too. She had long golden hair that fell in a shimmering wave to her feet. Her body was a soft white crystal, not transparent like glass, but a milky translucence that glowed with warm light. He knew she looked like that all over, because she wasn’t wearing any clothes except for the blaster holster at her waist and strapped to her thigh. He had a new favorite look. 

He had seen an avalanche once, up close. It had almost killed him. He was reminded of it as he watched her walk towards him. The stones had rolled and bounced and tumbled, but he’d stood in place happy to be crushed if necessary. The sight mesmerized him. It was powerful beauty, just like her.

Then it hit him in the back of the head. Was he in love? No. Something had actually hit his head, a blow-up ball launched by one of the festival goers. He caught it with the Force. Had she seen it? Could he play it off? 

He looked back at her and she was smiling at him. Her friend, an inky black crystal with long purple hair who he just noticed, leaned toward her and said something he couldn’t hear. Then they were both laughing. At least he thought it was laughing. The sound had a beautiful metallic ring to it like a bell made of stone, only it was shorter, more resonant. Still, he could tell they were not laughing with him. They were laughing at him.

He grabbed the ball from the air and drop kicked it. 

A few hours later on his way back to _The Reaper_ , he would see that same ball again when his shuttle bumped into it. He would realize that he had kicked the ball with enough anger-fueled Force to launch it into space. Then Future Malaak would shake his head at Past Malaak and think, ‘You giant, walking pile of shit, why didn’t you stick with the plan’.

But Here and Now (soon to be Past) Malaak was not thinking about that. No, this Malaak was thinking about two things: fucking and fighting (which were, in fact, his two favorite things to think about). And he knew that he was going to do some combination of the two with those vulptices, and General’s plan could go fuck itself.

____________________________________

In the Bank’s office, Malaak began getting antsy, because it looked like the accounting droids and their human counterparts agreed. This had to be the first time in the history of the universe that economists and accountants had agreed on anything, but this agreement meant that he would return to _The Reaper_ without seeing her again. He was going to have to cause a scene. Should he turn over the table or throw some chairs to interrupt the proceedings? Break a droid so they would have to send another one from _The Reaper_?

Malaak was interrupted from his thoughts by MM-407, a small, beige, squarish droid with practical wheels at the four corners of his base letting out a string of beeps.

MM-407 (This was not calculated correctly).

“Ah,” said Captain Nash, “We have a problem.”

The Festival accounting droid ACCT-8760 beeped out indignantly.

ACCT-8760 (All calculations completed without error!). 

Both droids simultaneously erupted in a series of beeps and whistles which Nash translated. “ACCT-8760 says that the receipts for today should be at 34.1654789 million. But MM-407 says, "Nuh-uh, only 34.905612 million was booked. We are being shorted.”

Malaak grabbed the Emperzario by the front of his robes. “You will pay for your disrespect of the First Order.” Finally, he got to choke someone; this day was already getting better. 

To his credit, the Emperzario looked down his nose at Malaak and said in a calm voice that indicated familiarity with being held three feet off the floor by a very large, very angry man, “I do not have the money you are looking for.” He paused. ”But I know who does. Come, I will need your persuasive powers.” 

This is how Malaak found himself back on the floating platform headed toward the main stage at the heart of Festival, the writhing mass of Festival-goers below. He knew he should have stayed with the Team because of the Plan. But he was one step closer to her if he left the Bank to meet Gneiss Grrls Manager, Mik Wofley.

The Emperzario was talking, “…Since he has experienced a small measure of success, he has become arrogant. He thought that he could renegotiate his contractual obligations. However, the terms are inviolate. A breach of the contract,” the Emperzario paused for effect as his face darkened, “will be a grave matter indeed.”

Malaak had been trying to follow, but listening to him was like listening to General Yellen. He wondered if they knew each other, you know small galaxy and all. 

“Why don’t you tell me the plan.”

“I will of course ask him for adequate recompense for the First Order. Though I imagine my request will be met with paltry excuses, at which point I will turn the discussion over to you. With your ample experience in martial arts, perhaps you can persuade him to change his mind. Otherwise, you may kill him.”

This was a type of negotiation Malaak could get behind.

____________________________________

Malaak didn’t like most beings, but he really did not like Mik Wofley. The being was smaller than himself (though most beings were), with dusky purple skin and white hair. Malaak wasn’t sure what species he was. Whatever he was, his eyes were shifty and he smelled bad - never a good combination. When Malaak and the Emperzario found him, he was on the side of the main stage watching Gneiss Grrls. He sneered at them, which was the wrong move.

Malaak was on him in an instant. He used the Force to shove him off his feet, then spun him in the air to catch him by the ankle. Malaak had found over the years that this was an effective way to start an interrogation; ending one, however, was usually much messier.

“Do you want to start?” asked Malaak, nodding toward the Emperzario.

“As you have no doubt guessed Mik, your failure to pay up has created a shortfall. The Knight Commander would like to know where the credits for the First Order are. Care to shed some light on this situation?”

Mik talked fast as the story poured out of him. He had been hunting talent and crash landed on Sphātáika. He had found the mother lode, sentient crystals that looked like women and could sing. Well, it was actually ringing. Something about controlling molecules and originating sound. Malaak had not heard, because he had found them. Now he knew their names. Krystal Kyhber, Greta Granite and Sandy Stone; the Gneiss Grrls. 

Standing on the side of the stage, Malaak could see her out of the corner of his eye. She was lovely when she stood still like a statue, but when she moved it was a beautiful disaster. She could wipe a man out. They could destroy so much together. Her voice rang through the air. It did something to him. It was filling him, his cock of course, but other places like his heart. He could not remember the last time he had felt something there.

Hello Daddy, Hello Mom,  
I’m your I-I-I-Ion Bomb.”

Mik told them how he built them into a group. “You know they play their own instruments, break hearts, and kick ass. Not necessarily in that order.” They traveled all over the Western Reaches, playing every gritty cantina, scrabbling to get a contract. But they had finally landed one that would take them to the Core Worlds. 

The crowd roared back their approval as she finished the song. Krystal waved and yelled “How you doing? I thought we would sing you one that everyone seems to love … well except maybe the Resistance!”

“X-ray Delta Niner Niner Zero…  
I lost my heart to a Starship Trooper.  
Flashing Lights in Hyperspace,  
Fighting for the First Order,  
Hand in Hand we’ll conquer space….”

She spread her legs to push into a high note as she swung the microphone around her leg. Her stance was amazing, a perfect command of Kut Di Pi stance and ancient sith form. With a lightsaber in her hands, she could do anything from that position. He would let her hold his lightsaber. She could tell him how, big, powerful and red it was. 

Mik started talking again and explained the money would fund the tour of the Core Worlds. “It isn’t cheap moving a band made of rocks. The contract won’t cover our costs. But we will get so much publicity.”

“Our final song is Coruscant Paradise. You know that is where we all want to go.

Won’t you turn up that holo  
To hear the rock and roll?  
Coruscant shines like summer gold.  
Wild beaches  
In the salty wind  
Coruscant summers never end.

Malaak realized this was his moment. “I would like to meet these women who would cost the First Order so much.”

____________________________________

Malaak was nervous. He had bedded women all over the galaxy. But this was different. Mik had only promised to introduce him. “The rest is up to you,” he said.

How would he talk to a rock star?

“Hello, my name is Sir Malaak Ren. I am Champion of the First Order, Overlord of the Western Reaches, and I would like to fuck you. Bend over.” Maybe too direct.

“Your music is terrible, but I would fuck you anyway.” True, but Mother had said you catch more raitans with sugar.

“You are beautiful, and I would like to worship you with my body.” The usual then. 

He opened the flap to her tent. There she was. Beautiful as a star, but not as distant. His heart was in his throat. 

A blaster came up, pointed at him, “Who the fuck are you?”

Krystal was sitting on Greta. She batted the blaster down. “Greta be nice to our guest and put that blaster away. You must be Sir Malaak Ren, Knight Commander of _The Pulverizer_ , correct? Mik told me you’re a big fan.”

Both women were looking at him. Malaak removed his mask. Neither woman had moved and he noted that Krystal was astride Greta. Malaak colored as it dawned on him why they were sitting so: he had walked in on them. How interesting. 

Greta spoke next. “Yes, he told us all about you. Piece of Flesh,” when she said Flesh, she spat it out like it had a foul taste. 

Malaak liked her and he hoped she would stay. Sweet and sour was a delicious combination. Combination? Wait, he hadn’t even considered sexual compatibility index. Would he even be able to fuck Krystal? And Greta, if she decided to stay? There were many species throughout the galaxy, most of which needed to procreate through either some sexual or (sadly, for a few of them) asexual process. Though for species with asexual processes, reproduction carried less risk of being broken-hearted at the end of the encounter.

Combining was a lucrative business. Buipen Publishing House had released a full series on the physiology of various species. The appendix to this lengthy compendium contained a table that compared species by number of legs, orifices, organs and reproduction requirements in a useful and surprisingly easy to read layout. The key had been using gradient colors. Soon the appendix was selling better than the series. Eventually, Buipen focused on the appendix only, published under its colloquial name The Field Guide for Fucking Galactically . Or the ‘FG-FG’ for short, because that is what everyone in the galaxy called it.

In its 326th edition, it was updated often. The only change from the original appendix was a new scale of -15 to +15, which corresponded to the peril index for intercourse. The terminus on each side was death. A score of -15 meant a sexual encounter resulting in a painful death. Inversely, a score of +15 indicated a sexual encounter leading to death from bliss. An encounter with an index of 0 left both parties neither better nor worse off than before, though this was rare.

Malaak’s copy of the appendix was very well used and he had memorized most of the scores. He tried hard to remember what planet Mik had mentioned before. Sphātáika, he thought. Which meant these crystal confections were... Sphātás? 

“…Knight Commander, are you there? Can I get you something to drink? Tea… Caf… Firewhiskey?” Krystal detangled her legs from Greta’s and stood up with grace one would not expect from a rock. Greta’s face contorted with frustration.

Malaak said,” No, I do not need a beverage. Thank you for your hospitality.” His thoughts wandered back to her score, and before he could stop himself he blurted out,” What is your FiGi?”

Asking for a ‘FGFG’ or FiGi was a galactic touchstone for sexually active beings, everyone had said it at least once. Buipen had commission a study that showed approximately 92% of couplings that would have resulted in one party being either maimed or dead by the end of the encounter had been prevented by asking for the FGFG. Statisticians, who enjoyed being wet blankets, pointed out that this was probably inflated because the couples who had disregarded guidance from the peril index were dead and not able to be studied. However, of the 8% that decided to go through with a perilous coupling anyway, the most popular reason for doing so was ‘Love Hurts.’

The researchers who put together The Field Guide for Fucking Galactically  wished that their readership knew that acceptable levels of both sadism and masochism were already incorporated into the scale. Really, when they assigned a -15 it meant that a researcher had died, and -10 meant you would be missing something you rather liked having, such as a hand, head, or genital appendage.

Krystal laughed, “So straight to it then.“

Greta snorted as she got up from the floor cushions. “Don’t tell him anything. He is so... soft. You won’t feel anything, and you will crush him…not metaphorically either.”

Krystal held Malaak’s gaze. “Thank you Greta, for NOT making me feel insecure about my weight, AT ALL. Besides, he is worth 3 million credits and a shot at fame.” She paused and pressed her lips together, “On the human scale I am -3. What do you think Knight Commander, do you still want to ride the ride?”

Now Malaak had gone as far as a -5. The sex had been life altering: he had never come as hard before or since. But the cuddling afterward had almost killed him. Fortunately, Krystal’s teeth didn’t look particularly sharp, so he was probably safe.

“Oh yes,” he said.

Greta stomped off muttering about meddling pieces of flesh. She looked pointedly at Krystal as she flipped back the tent flap. “I’ll only be a call away if you need me.”

Malaak laughed, “Listening at doors seems a waste of your talents. Why not join us?” He loved a threesome, it was like melee fighting but required a different focus. 

She shot him a glare. He shrugged and turned back to the most beautiful woman(like) entity he had ever seen. Greta could keep her glares. If looks could kill he would have been dead long ago; instead he was alive and well. More importantly, he was going to fuck an actual Rock Star.

____________________________________

“My body doesn’t produce moisture like yours,” explained Krystal. “Usually, when I have sex outside my species I find that lack of lubrication can be a problem. Also, there is the density issue…” Her voice trailed off and her head dipped to the side. She looked almost ashamed.

Malaak was puzzled. “Density issue?”

She pointed to herself. “Um, I’m made of rock, so I have a greater mass than a human of my size. I like to be on top,” she paused, “The first time I had sex with a human I almost killed him. I have found immersion in water helps counteract both of these problems.”

Fuck. Malaak had not thought this through. He just wanted to have sex with a beautiful woman(like) creature, and now he was having to think about lubrication and density. Somehow this had gone from being about chemistry to being about Chemistry. And Physics. His arousal that had been raging since he walked into the tent was finally cooling.

“And, we need to talk about protection.”

Malaak was not prepared for that either, “With a negative FiGi there is no chance of me impregnating you, right?” And if there was, then he probably had a lot of children he didn’t know about. A lot.

She laughed and walked over to the large case lying open on the floor. “No, we don’t conceive that way. The waters erode the crystals over millennia only to release us from the Mother to allow our Light to shine and Voices rise. I’m not talking about protection with a capital P, more like protection. For you. From me. Oh that rhymes, I should write that down, it could be a song.” As she leaned over the case looking for something, Malaak caught sight of her ass. It was a thing of beauty. Just like that, his cock twitched and he was back in the game.

Krystal found what she was looking for with a yelp of victory, then turned to him with what appeared to be a metal sock. Malaak looked from her to the sock and back. It finally dawned on him that she was not holding a sock. It was, in fact, a metal covering for his cock.

“I’m not wearing that,” he said.

“Yes you are. If you don’t you will have nothing left down there but bloody bits and pieces when we are done. Besides, I can’t feel anything when there is just flesh. This helps.”

Malaak took the covering from her extended hand. It was a fine flexible mesh. He wasn’t sure about this, but he put his hand inside. It was soft, kind of spongy actually, and it didn’t feel bad. He realized that this was a specific bit of gear, like what you use for rock climbing in caves. What had Nash called it? Spelunking. And more importantly, it was something that would be reused. 

Oh, Maker, who else had been inside this thing?

“Has anyone else worn it?”

“Um… yes… but just a few times. If that helps.”

That did not help. He dropped the genital spelunking gear to the floor and wiped his hands on his tunic. He really wanted to wash them. Or maybe burn them. This encounter was not going how he imagined it.

Her face resolved into what looked like a pout, “Listen, I want to have sex with you, but this isn’t going to work unless you meet me halfway. I’ll be damned if I am not going to get off too. Three million credits are three million credits, but you don’t get to take me for granted.”

Malaak had shit in a lot of disgusting holes throughout the galaxy. And he had put his cock in a lot of places that it didn’t belong. But he was drawing a line here: there was no way he was putting the best part of himself into a metal cock sock worn by other men. He shrugged derisively, hoping she understood.

She didn’t. Her face contorted with indignation. Her rage had a hardness to it, and Malaak couldn’t be sure if it was just her, or being a rock, that made her appear this way. There was so much beautiful fury flooding out of her and it made Malaak melt. 

 

_Krystal watched the muscles flex and ripple in his huge arms as approached her. Why didn’t his tunic have sleeves? Stars, it didn’t matter - those arms were a thing of dreams. Was this really going to happen? Could a man, a little bit of flesh, love her? Yes, this was happening. She felt herself falling towards him. “I won’t ever take you for granite,” he said. His lips skated over hers. She knew they looked smooth, but her skin was rough and jagged. It caught his lip and tore the fragile flesh. He wiped his mouth with his gloved hand, and if it hadn’t been black with metal mesh there would have been a red streak of blood on it. “You hurt me in the best way,” he added._

 

Malaak’s hand reached for her waist and spanned it. He swept her legs from under her and lowered her onto the same cushions she had been reclining upon with Greta. He let her go when she was a few inches from the floor. She landed with an indignant huff and glared at him. He was in love.

She watched him warily, “Talc to me, Knight Commander.”

“Call me Sir Malaak or just Sir. You’ll see.”

Kneeling between her legs, he removed his cowl, belt, and tunic. Only his pants, boots and gloves remained. 

 

_She forgot what men looked like underneath their clothes. Why would he hide his form? Humans were so weird. He was beautiful and everyone should know it. His chest and stomach were hairless but not bare. The tattoos on his arms continued to his body. He was covered with a tangle of lines and jumble of shapes. Every time he moved she saw new patterns as the muscles underneath the lines shifted. And he had so many muscles, Piece of Flesh, indeed. If this was his top, she couldn’t wait to see his bottom._

 

His gloves were a fine mesh gauntlet that allowed movement while protecting his hands. They were made from a very similar material to the genital spelunking sock. He wagered that if he kept his gloves on, he would be able to stimulate her as she desired. The question remained: what could he use for the sex? But that wasn’t his problem yet.

He stretched his right hand out and brought it to her chin, cupping it lightly with all of his fingers. As he dragged them down her jaw towards her neck, he let his index finger trace a line across her lips. She tried to bite him. “Be gneiss” he chided.

“Of quartz, ” she replied.

He continued down the column of her neck, pausing to trace a circle at the hollow of her throat. He moved to her breast, outlining the nipple with his thumb, and then covered her breast with his whole hand. He massaged it gently while his palm rubbed against her nipple.

“Can you feel that?” She shuddered violently. Good, she could.

“Your fingers are magic,” she moaned.

“What do you want them to do next?”

“You’re doing fine so far, but they’re your credits.” They were in reality the First Order’s credits, but she didn’t need to know that. 

Malaak had fucked two different partners to unconscious bliss, and he was proud that it had been all him. The other Knights used the Force regularly during sex, but he thought that was cheating. With Krystal, he was strongly considering cheating. He needed some help; he really was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

He gathered the Force to him, and it hit him like a wave of loud music, illicit substances, and desperation. The Force was very responsive on Festival, Malaak wondered if there was a force nexus nearby, then dismissed it. He drew the Force into himself, channeling it into his fingers as he resumed his exploration of her.

“I think I will touch you until you beg me to fuck you. And then I will fuck you so hard you break apart. You will be ruined.”

“Pumices, pumices. Stop talking schist and get on with it,” she growled.

A second finger joined the first as he traced around her stomach. He laid his palm flat across her belly. Then he pushed his desire into her boosted by the Force.

She arched off the floor. “Oh, Sir Malaak,” she keened.

His fingers dipped lower to where her legs came together. Now if he wasn’t wearing gloves, and she wasn’t a sentient crystal, he would gauge her readiness by the heat and wetness of her slit. But those rules didn’t apply now. It was time to make his own rules.

He pushed one finger inside her. The sensation was interesting and different; it felt like finding a finger hold while climbing. He stroked her, moving in and out slowly while bringing his hand flush against her, covering her slit with his palm.

“More, “she whined.

He inserted a second finger. He thrust the pair in and out and pushed his thumb to where her clit would be if she was human. She moaned. Okay, so the pebbly thing he was rubbing was her clit. Good to know.

 

_Krystal was surprised that it felt this good. It never felt this good unless Greta was touching her, grinding and chiseling away at her core. The two of them wouldn’t stop until they were covered with a fine coating of dust carved from their friction. She had never felt anything like this with a human. Humans were so soft, so fragile, but Sir Malaak was different - hard and strong. She was crystal, but he was a rock. Each stroke was bringing her closer. She ground down on his fingers. “Was that too hard?” she asked._

 

She had almost crushed his fingers. He looked down at Krystal. He wished he could read her mind. Wait, he could use the Force! Malaak wasn’t very talented at reading minds, but she was close and so open. He reached into her mind gently, not prepared to see her greatest fears laid transparent. She feared being ignored, forgotten, and rejected; he felt the same. He would take the pain of tomorrow to love her today. She deserved nothing less.

“No, it’s perfect.” 

He gathered the Force again and concentrated on wrapping it around his body. He imagined layering it around himself – making his cock a little wider and a little longer. Not that he needed any help. He was a hammer from hell and he was going to make Krystal’s bell ring. 

He removed his fingers. “Look at me,” he said. She did. “I want to see you. Do you want this?”

She smiled, “Please fuck me, it would be a tarn shame if you didn’t.”

“My sediments exactly,” said Malaak. 

Malaak pushed his pants down to his ankles, leaving on his boots. Then he leaned over her bracing his hands on either side of her head. When he entered her, the first thing he noticed was how cool she felt. And then there were the sharp edges. If he wasn’t blanketed in the Force, he would definitely be bleeding. As he pushed in he could feel her moving around him, it felt like shifting sand. It was coarse, rough and everywhere.

 

_She had forgotten how warm humans were. His heat was a surprise and the wetness as well. She groaned. She squeezed herself around him and it was delicious. Usually a flesh partner just yelped, but she didn’t have to hold back with him. He was hard, yet brittle, like flint. He could easily break under the right circumstances. His next thrust was particularly delightful. She didn’t know how but he had tapped some secret spot and set her body ringing. She couldn’t believe the sounds her body was making, its peal was a whole new song of pleasure._

 

Malaak looked down. Krystal’s mouth was open, her eyes were closed and she was ringing. It sounded like the chiming bells he had heard earlier but much louder; so he was headed in the right direction.

Her arms shot up and grabbed his chiseled shoulders. She flipped him abruptly and moved to straddle him. Damn. She was heavy, she was crushing him and he couldn’t remember having ever been this aroused. 

“Do you mind if I take over now?” she asked. 

He did not mind. Her body rose and fell and the impact took his breath away. He was seeing stars. He opened himself to the Force - in this case he really did need it to ‘lift rocks.’ Lust combined with its wild nature on this world, made Malaak lose control of Force he channeled between them. He was pouring everything he had into her. Krystal’s singing pitched higher and higher as raw power crashed into her. Her thrusts met his and soon he was singing along. 

Singing. This was new. He though he sounded pretty good.

Malaak gazed at Krystal in wonder as the Force revealed the very molecules vibrating inside her. Seven Hells, he was fucking her on an atomic level. His energy cascaded into her. He was going to bring her to orgasm with the Force. It would be a Forcegasm! 

”That’s clever,” he thought. He would have to tell Kylo the next time they met. Kylo liked clever things and would want to use it. That is, if Kylo ever let go and got laid. 

Krystal threw her head back and shrilled a single note. She was suddenly blinding, as if a light had turned on inside her. Her soft glow was replaced by the noon day sun, but twice as hot. She was almost molten to touch, Malaak would have been consumed if not for the Force wrapped around him. He thrust into her, wave after wave of Force breaking though her; it felt like standing next to a star going supernova. He sang with her, and finally tipped over the edge into his own Forcegasm.

____________________________________

Sphātáikaians or Sphātás as they were sometimes called, were impervious to most things in the galaxy. But as Mik had explained their special talent was sound. As is in most cases, their strength was also their weakness. As Krystal and Malaak came simultaneously, the notes that they sang created at harmonic dyad or a two note chord. Unfortunately, that chord was so dissonant, it could rip apart matter. Now this would not have been a problem if it they had normal sex. A few of the cushions might have blown up, their ears would have hurt, and they could have laughed at the funny noises they made at climax while they cuddled. But the Force was still swirling around them hot and heavy. And the dyad that Krystal and Malaak had sung had resonant frequency with the very molecules that formed Krystal’s crystal lattice. 

Had they not sustained the note for 5 seconds, had their pitch been a little less resonant, or had they not be having sex on top of a very powerful Force nexus; if any one of those conditions had not been met, things would have ended differently. They would have cuddled. Malaak would have told Krystal what he had seen in her mind, and how it had opened his heart. Krystal would have been overcome that he had seen beyond the rock. They could have loved each other. But this was not to be.

There was loud crack followed by what seemed like a thousand glasses shattering. Malaak couldn’t understand until he opened his eyes and looked up. Where Krystal had been blinding and illuminated with light, she was shot through with cracks and a dull grey color. Her mouth was frozen open, but no sound was coming out. Malaak had seen this look before, on the battlefield, when a soldier realized the end was near. He rolled so she was under him and pulled out. His eyes were fixed on hers as he gathered her to his chest, “What happened? Did I do this to you?” 

Her mouth was moving, but whatever she was trying to tell him was lost, there was no sound. He got to his feet and pulled up his pants. “I will find you help.” He ran to the tent door and bellowed for Greta. He returned to Krystal and held her, smoothing her hair as he rocked her. His heart sank. This was the not the first time he held someone he loved and watched the light leave them.

Greta stormed into the tent. “What the fu…” the curse died in her throat. She ran forward to Krystal shoving Malaak away. “Maker… she occluded,” she ran her hand over Krystal’s face. “What did you do to her, Flesh?” she wailed.

Malaak wasn’t sure what occluded meant but from Greta’s reaction, he assumed it was not good. He told her what he could remember. “We fucked, we sang, we screamed, then there was a loud crack and glasses shattering.”

Greta let out a screech then launched herself at him. He was on his back again with her on top, this was not as pleasant as it was with Krystal, since her hands were around his throat crushing his windpipe. He summoned his lightsaber from his pile of clothes. He ignited it and swept it up to cut Greta in half, but nothing happened. The light saber, which would cut through almost anything - flesh, durasteel, extended metaphors of light and dark - was useless here. Or it was until he shut it off and used it brain Greta. It distracted her long enough for him to roll out from under her.

His normal reaction was to stand and fight. But he had found the fighting after fucking was almost always a lose/lose situation. This was how his penis got bitten off (the first time) by a Babbit. He was just damned lucky that they were able to reattach it. Today, he was not going to fight, because this was too much. He darted over for a quick kiss on Krystal’s forehead, and whispered, “I am so sorry.” Then he rolled scooping up his coverings and mask as he ran out of the tent with Greta breathing down his neck. She was only a few steps behind him, “You will die today, Flesh. I will tear you apart.”

But the Maker was with him today. There was a hippie coming toward him on a speeder. He stuck out his arm clotheslining him. He jumped on the now unoccupied speeder and hauled it back to the Bank. He looked over his shoulder, Greta was still running after him. He needed to get off this planet and fast.

 

_Krystal sat up gingerly. Both Sir Malaak and Greta had abandoned her. She held her head. The reverberations ringing through it had died down. Occluded. Lightless. Silent. This was her new reality. All her dreams had vanished in an instant. She hugged her knees. She would be a fucking cautionary tale for generations to come._ _What had gone wrong? The plan she and Mik hatched was a good one. It should have worked. Take the money, if the First Order noticed, she would “convince” them to let it slide. They would split it with The Emperzario after Mik took his 10% off the top. If she was lucky, the Gneiss Grrls would be on their way to Coruscant by nightfall. When she said that one of the Emperzario’s eyebrows arched, “In my experience, there is no such thing as luck. Only planning.”_ _“That sounds like something an accountant would say,” she said._ _“Of course, its what I am.”  
_

____________________________________

MM-407 (YOU WOULDN’T KNOW AN INCOME STATEMENT IF IT BIT YOU IN THE CENTRAL PROCESSING UNIT)

ACCT-8760 (YOUR PROGENERATORS WERE AN ABACUS AND A FAULTY CAF MACHINE)

MM-407 (YOUR MATERNAL PROGENERATOR IS A POLYGON WITH UNLIMITED SIDES.)

ACCT-8760 (YOUR MATERNAL PROGENERATOR IS SO INCOHERENT THAT SHE TRIED TO MINIMIZE A 12 VARIABLE FUNCTION TO A MINIMAL SUM OF PRODUCTS EXPRESSION USING A KARNAUGH MAP INSTEAD OF THE QUINE-MCCLUSKY ALGORITHM.) 

MM-407 (SHE WOULD NEVER....SWITCH OFF)

ACCT-8760 (YOU SWITCH OFF FIRST)

Captain Nash sighed. He had listened to the two robots trade insults with each other for the last two hours. It seemed that cash flow statements put both droids very out of sorts. After they invested so much, he didn’t have the heart to tell him that First Order standard for this particular calculation of kick-back was the direct method instead of indirect. But he didn’t want to get shocked or worse.

Then Malaak burst into the room. “We leave now.”

Captain Nash looked nonplussed, “Um, no. We still haven’t settled on a number. The droids have found an additional kick- back revenue stream, something to do with food cart vendors, and are arguing over how it is booked.”

Malaak shot him a pained look. “Nash, we need to go.” Captain Nash looked up. Malaak had called him by his name. Since meeting the Knight Commander, Nash had been astounded by his creative use of archaic insults in place of his name. He had some range, his favorites included: Yaldson, Wandought, Saddlegoose, Boblyne, Cumberworld, and Dalcop. Malaak had never once called him Nash, this got his attention.

Captain Nash looked at Malaak. The Knight was out of breath and sweating. His cowl and tunic were a mess, well they were always a mess, but this was hastily put on mess. “What have you been up to Knight Commander?”

“None of your business. But I am leaving and taking MM-407 with me. Do you want to stay here?”

MM-407 (I have not yet completed my objective Knight Commander. ACCT-8760 does not seem to have the same grasp of GAAP that I do.)

ACCT-8760 (Your processors would take 10.9 seconds to complete the routine of adding 2 plus 2.)

Malaak reached out and grabbed ACCT-8760 and threw it to the floor, breaking the droid into pieces.

MM-407 (To the shuttle then.)

“Good choice,” said Malaak.

As the shuttle broke atmosphere leaving the shifting colors of Festival’s sky behind, Malaak sighed and sunk into his seat. He looked out into the darkness of space through the shuttle’s window. He noticed something round that was getting bigger. 

“What is that?” said Captain Nash, “It looks like a small moon.”

“That’s no moon, it’s a … space station?” replied Malaak. But space stations were not usually brightly colored or dented on one side. No, it couldn’t be. He knew exactly what it was, “Not a space station, it’s a ball.” It was the same ball that only hours before he had drop kicked out of anger when Krystal and Greta laughed at him. He had kicked it very hard; hard enough to launch it into space. 

Gravity stabilizers could keep a traveler from floating around the cabin and bumping into the ceiling. They did nothing for a stomach unexpectedly dropping to one’s feet when confronted with a reminder of a recent and tragic hook-up. Malaak tipped his head back into the seat and closed his eyes, he couldn’t look at it anymore. He whispered to himself, “You giant, walking pile of shit, why didn’t you stick with the plan”.

Captain Nash watched Malaak shrink before him. He had a bad feeling about this. “Knight Commander, I know now may not be a good time. But we are thirty million credits short of a full load. What are we going to tell General Yellen?” The lump formerly known as Malaak only managed a small shrug.

MM-407 untroubled by his human companions’ distress started to whistle the chorus to ‘I lost my heart to a starship trooper’.

“Don’t…,” said Malaak. MM-407 beeped inquisitively. Malaak’s face crumpled as he leaned forward to bury his face in his hands.

It looked like it was up to Captain Nash, “I’ll signal red then, shall I?”

____________________________________

“General, we are receiving a priority signal from the surface.”

“Excellent, Specialist. It must be Captain Nash and the Knight Commander. Patch them through.” General Yellen was surprised to see the Emperzario. But she did not show this.

“Salutations, Janeek.”

Oh, they were going to play this game. “Hello, Liullo. Can you provide a status update on the tax assessment?”

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure to do so, but I seem to be missing your Knight Commander, your lead accountant and my accounting droid is in about 36 pieces. But the more pressing concern, is regarding the First Order's breach of contract.”

Janeek’s stomach flipped. Galactic contract law was durasteel clad. A “Breach of Contract” had proceeded almost every war for the last millennia, she had written her thesis on the topic. Furthermore, she subscribed to the proverb ‘When you have to pull the contract, pull your blaster out too’. Out of the sight from the holo, she gave the hand signal to Lieutenant Keynes to prep the turbo canons. She was not sure what had happened, but she wasn’t going to pull down her pants and let him dry fuck her.

“That is a serious matter. Could you provide some context?”

Liullo sighed, “While on the surface, your Knight Commander had intercourse with Krystal Kyber of the Gneiss Grrls. In circumstances I have yet to ascertain, he caused irreparable damage to her. Which by…”

Janeek interrupted, “Please clarify irreparable damage.” This was an intricate dance, Janeek knew her steps, but the lawyers would pirouette once they got hold of this. First she had to get through it. She was sure she had more firepower than Liullo, well, mostly sure.

He pursed his lips,” It seems that the Knight Commander ‘Occluded’ Miss Kyhber.”

“Occluded? What does that mean.”

“Apparently Sphātás are sensitive to resonant harmonics and during intercourse, the Knight Commander shattered her. I am informed her light has left her and she will never sing again.”

“Is she dead?”

“No, but as both the insurance and reinsurance contacts between Festival and the performers cover bodily injury under the force majeure clause. Ha a Force majeure caused by the Force,” Liullo chuckled to himself. Then his voice turned harsh, “There will be claims to pay.”

“And our tax payment?”

A vile smile that cracked the lower half of his face. “Forfeit per the contract.”

SEVEN HELLS. Janeek would fire the cannon herself, but the question was if it would be on Festival or the shuttle that was probably returning now with Nash and the Knight Commander. She was well and truly fucked, by this mealy mouthed, officious, smug accountant. She would have to tell Snoke that Festival’s payment was gone. She would blow them all up, then she might be able to handle his Supremeness.

“Lieutenant, shields up. Fire on the Bank until it no longer exists.” Janeek turned towards the holo. “Liullo, we will continue this discussion in private.”

“I look forward to it.”

____________________________________

 

In her quarters off the bridge, Janeek stripped. Though she was no longer the lissome girl she once was, she was still svelte, and Liullo had told her her breasts seemed to have their own anti-gravity mechanism. She was wise to have chosen piracy over motherhood. She sat at her desk with her legs spread wide. She toggled a switch and the holo projected over it. At first, she only saw Liullo’s head with that thick beautiful mane of white hair. Then the holo shifted out and he was naked, slowly stroking his penis.

“Janeek, you look particularly moist today.”

“Liullo, you are a dog.” Maker even after all this time seeing him naked did things to her. His body was lavender and while rippling muscles of his youth had softened, he remained trim. “You fucked me over today.”

“I did. And you loved it.”

She really did. “But you missed one thing.” She ran a finger around her nipple then let it fall to her slit dipping in one finger to wet it before rolling her clit like the delicate pearl it was. “I hedged against the Knight Commander doing something stupidly expensive. Unfortunately for you, exercising that option, means I must destroy Festival’s surface,” She inserted a second finger stretching herself.

His hand was moving more rapidly now, and his breath came out in pants, “We needed to expand the VIP section. You are doing me a favor, I will save millions on demolition costs. Besides where do you think the liquidity, ha, for that position came from my … Moral Hazard? ” He was rubbing the head of cock he must be getting close. She certainly was. He knew that word games and candy were her secret weaknesses.

“Oh Liullo, it’s a-ccrual world that I can’t be with you now and your clever mouth.”

“Indeed, though there are so many …barriers to entry… and in all fairness you are trying to blow me up along with the rest of Festival.”

“Pshaw, I am sure that you evacuated as many people as possible, except those that you hate and you are talking to me from a secure bunker. Show me your ass…ets.” He moved closer to the holo, he was almost there, he was hard enough that he actually had a slight curve. She would need to remember that for next time. 

“Janeek, I love when you think with decimals instead of commas.” He groaned. “Let me supply your demand, because I want to SHIFT YOUR CURVES.” 

At this point between the wet slaps of skin on skin, the rhythmic shaking of the turbo cannons pounding Festival, and the return broadside from the planet’s surface, both of them were carried over into the sweet oblivion of simultaneous orgasms fueled by dirty financial innuendo. Fitting really Janeek thought, it was what brought them together all those years ago, when she was pirating with Maz and he was working for the Empire’s Accounting Unit.

As they floated down, Liullo turned serious. “Janeek, will your positions remain tenable? Do you need to retire?”

His concern was sweet. She should make sure to alert the Mauve Rhombus that Festival needed aid. But retire, now? She was having too much fun. Besides, the First Order’s retirement plan was awful. It consisted of, ‘You look old, here is the airlock’. This was why she had been embezzling on the side for years. 

She sighed, “I’ll be fine. I think the options will shake out to 32 million. There will be a variance to the forecast, but it might even escape notice in the Year over Year comparison.”

“Ahhh, l love when you analyze the data.”

“Tease, If worse comes to worst, I will do what economists have been doing since they blew the first forecast all those aeons ago…”

“… blame it on the weather.” He said it with her, because he had heard her say it so many times over the years. She was so fortunate to have someone who knew her body and mind so well. Maybe someday they really could retire and experience inflation together. Someday, when the galaxy wasn’t falling apart in a useless war, had an accounting system that made sense and a stable independent central bank that could prevent currency spikes and inflation.

Until then they all they had were stolen moments and irrational expectations.  


____________________________________

When the shuttle landed General Yellen met them, once again unflappable in her crisp uniform. Captain Nash staggered down the gangplank supporting the injured Malaak. General Yellen, regarded them both coolly as MM-407 wheeled down, “I gather things didn’t go to plan.”

Malaak looked up. “Fuck the plan,” he choked out. His face a mask of misery.

General Yellen wasn’t sure what bothered her more, the fact this lummox had caused her such grief or that he was in such pain now. If she was compassionate, she would send him to the med bay and talk to him there. But pain was a very good teacher, she had learned that from her audiences with Snoke. Also, she didn’t have a moment to spare, she was going to be busy well into the next day cycle cleaning up this mess. Just a little bit of her wanted revenge. While not all evil people were economists, all economists were evil.

“Captain Nash, you may drape the Knight Commander on the door strut. You are dismissed. Report me to me in 10 minutes for debriefing. You too MM-407.” General Yellen rounded on Malaak. “You are not dismissed. Before I send you back to your ship, we need to talk.” In any galaxy throughout this wide universe, ‘We need to talk’ always signaled impending pain. Malaak shrugged and then winced. General Yellen took some solace in this. Maybe he would learn something.

“Knight Commander. I am disappointed in you.” His head was down eyes on the floor looking like a little boy who had been caught. “It isn’t about the money or even destroying a mutually beneficial relationship like the First Order had with Festival. It is about following the plan.” She paused. He was still looking at the floor. She wasn’t reaching him. Time to change tactics. 

She sighed. “Sir Malaak, I like you.” His head came up. Got him, now lay it on thick. “Of all the Knights you are my favorite. It’s not because you are the smartest, most perceptive or best looking. No, it is because you have grit. I can remember when you were first assigned to me. You knew nothing about the workings of the First Order. But you threw yourself into it and worked very hard to understand. Even if many chairs and droids met their fate.”

He gave her a small shrug, but he was meeting her eyes. She had his attention. “But it seems like you have forgotten the three lessons we started with. So, allow me to review.”

Another shrug and a sigh. 

“Lesson One – There is no such thing as a free lunch. Every action has a cost. I will be discussing what happened today with Supreme Leader Snoke.” Here Malaak blanched. She knew what this meant for him, but he would have to learn as she had.

“Lesson Two – And this one really should be basic. “DON’T GET YOUR HONEY WHERE YOU GET YOUR MONEY.” His head snapped up. The barest hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. Another shrug. This man and his shoulders.

“Lesson Three -- Prices don’t move functions. When holding all the variables constant or ceteris paribus, a change in price only results in moving up or down the supply or demand curve. Or in your case, if you don’t shift your behavior, you will be doomed to tread the same path repeatedly.” 

She softened her voice, she really did like Malaak, but he was a bit of an idiot. “Knight Commander, never look back unless you are planning to go that way. You are dismissed. You may return to _The Pulverizer_ and I will see you in the next year cycle.”

“Thank you, General Yellen.”

As he turned to stagger up the shuttle’s step. He could hear her mutter about ‘damn fool men’ and ‘wrong head.’

____________________________________

Malaak considered his day, while sitting in the med bay in the special genital bacta wrap that _The Pulverizers’ _medics had made. It was a design that they seem to use with some frequency. On the plus side, he would not see the Financial Analysis Unit, General Yellen or _The Reaper_ for another year. General Yellen was getting old maybe she would retire or die by the next tax collection cycle. He also had exciting sex with a new being. He could mark off the species in his FGFG.__

____

But on the minus side, his cock and balls were a bruised and bloody mess. It looked like he had been beating them with rocks for the better part of an hour, because that was what had happened. It would take a few days before he would be able to move comfortably. He had broken with the plan and had not achieved his objective. General Yellen was going to report the failure to Snoke who would punish him. He could feel the strength leaving his body already. It was Snoke’s favorite punishment, making him vulnerable and weak. Even though the sex was great, he had ruined a beautiful rage filled creature. He was the destroyer of dreams. With the razing of Festival add to his titles Waster of Worlds or maybe Slaughterer of the Western Reaches.

Jana’s face came back to him. In his lowest moments, her face framed by all that glorious shimmering hair floating around it would haunt him. He remembered her eyes swimming with tears. Her small hand grasping for his. She stammered, “Please.…” He turned away. Every woman since Jana had been a catastrophe. Even though he still wasn’t sure what ceteris paribusis was, General Yellen was right. He had repeated the same mistakes since Jana with every woman he had touched. He was a disaster. 

He would never learn. He was hopeless at that too. Too slow and too stupid all his life. Who would want him? Even if he found someone, the outcome would always be the same. No love would ever be strong enough overcome his ability to destroy. 

Seven Hells, he needed something to drink.

His commlink peeped. “Knight Commander, priority message for you, Sir.”

“Yes, Specialist?”

“Sir, it is coded.”

“Then run it through the Maker-damned decoder and patch it through to my commlink! I’m in med bay.”

__

“Again, Sir?” Malaak growled. “My apologies, Sir. Decoder just finished, patching through now, Sir.”

__

He projected the message. Now he understood why it was coded. It was from Kylo. There were only two lines, but they would shift his function, finally changing his outcome in a way he had never expected.

__

 

__

__

Snoke is Dead.  
Meet in Coruscant.

__

__  


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it. I want to thank uselessenglishmajor for creating the [Free To Fall](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323165/chapters/30493680) universe with delightfully, complicated characters. More importantly, bless her for curating the walking disaster (in the best way) of a comments section where I have found so much inspiration. Also thanks to my bet-xtrodinare Heartsandwich. This farce would never have existed without you, so half the kudos are yours, once Mik takes his 10%.
> 
> I must give credit where credit is due, some of the best moments in this story were inspired by or just plain stolen from other works. If you would like to read more about Star Wars economics then [The Second Order](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13384197/chapters/30656397) should be your next read (It is so good, it should be your next read anyway). The arguing robots was a complete rip-off of [Bound to the Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13505961/chapters/30975165) which is a fluff/angst love triangle of Rey/Poe/Ben. But she called the BB8 internal monologue before the TLJ novelization. Finally, the Forcegasm came from [The Surrogate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210713/chapters/30219153) be advised this story has intense bondage with dubious consent. Read the tags to make sure this is something you are comfortable with before proceeding. 
> 
> Most of the songs are inspired by [The Runaways](The%20Runaways) self titled album which I listened to about 685 times while writing the story. The real gem is Hot Gossip's [ "I Lost My Heart To a Starship Trooper](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xKtJobLOVYQ). Yes, this really exists. 
> 
> If farces or comedy are your particular flavor of Reylo then I would suggest:  
> [Black Tide](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13271934/chapters/30367044) by phainopepla, [Nemesis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13670637/chapters/31402371) by mysecretfanmoments, and [The Plot to Kill Kylo Ren](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13727799/chapters/31539111) by sap1066. 
> 
> See you in the comments section.


End file.
